the service \\X \\ Onginatffom By Sgt. KNOX BURGER YANK Staff Correspondent . Tokyo — ^The American Army of Occupation in Japan isn’t complaining because it has too • much work to do. So far, Japanese soldiers and civilians have obeyed our orders to the let- ter. Things are going so well that it's getting monotonous. Most GIs in Japan don’t have any trouble, either, observing the rather vague and varying nonfraternization rules of their respective com- manders. The Japanese language, unlike German, French and Italian, is impossible to learn quickly. The average Japanese girl is unapproachable and practically never on the make. The average Jap- anese home has nothing to attract an American. Big Japanese cities after the first look are unin- teresting; their shops, restaurants and theaters are mostly destroyed, and the sight of the vast stretches of industrial and residential districts burned flat by our incendiaries gets more de- pressing the more you see of it. Except for or- ganized athletics and GI movies, the American soldier has no recreation other than what he finds in geisha houses. The actual work of reconverting the country from a wartime to a peacetime basis is being done by the Japanese and, as S/Sgt. Howard Keough of New York put it, “The American troops are merely standing at their side watch- ing to make sure they don’t fool arouni” Keough, a husky paratrooper in the 11th Air- borne Division, is an S-2 noncom stationed with his battalion in a huge but flimsy Jap barracks near the ruined city of Sendai, about 200 miles up the coast from Tokyo. “We don’t have any trouble here," Keough said. “I’ve got Jap carpenters building me an S-2 office. They’re hard workers and very obliging. We send out patrols to see what’s going on in the terrain our regiment has been assigned to. Native cops in Sendai guard some of the abandoned warehouses, jmd we guard others. There isn’t much left in 'Sendai to guard, because the town caught hell from our B-29s. We’ve got an indoor gym and theater, where they show middle-aged movies three or four times per week. One of our guys spends his spare time taking his pet monkey up on the barracks’ roof, attaching a Jap flare parachute on his back and letting him float down to the ground.” The Japanese in the neighborhood, known among GLs as “gooks,” the GI name for all na- tives in the Pa'cific, go about their business pay- ing no attention to the Americans. “They’re completely submissive,” Keough said. “They’re taking it better than we ever could. In fact, they’re taking it better than any other coun- try could. They’re the queerest people I’ve ever seen.” The kids in the Tokyo-Yokohama area wave and make the V sign with their fingers when American trucks drive by, but in Sendai they just stare. The line men in the 11th Airborne never give them a chance to get friendly. “A lot of these Japs think American paratroop- ers drink blood and kill their own mothers,” Keough said. “When we first visited these places the women and children would really take off. Some of them still don’t trust us — ^just like lots of us don’t trust them— but most of them realize now we’re not going to pull any raw deals.” The nth Airborne Division, like the 1st Caval- ry Division in Yokohama, is patched with re- placements. Veterans like Keough in the 60- and 70-point bracket are merely marking time, wait- ing to go home. The low-point men who will do most of the occupying are not too dissatisfied. At least, they say, this is one campaign they are fairly sure of coming out of alive. Some of them, like Pfc. Robert Eberly of Chicago, say, “Why bother keeping 200,000 men sitting here when we have an atomic bomb?” But the majority opinion is that expressed by Pfc. John Lochead of Brooklyn: “I think we ought to keep a large occupation force here just as long as it ain't t«. “It’s hard to get sore at these Japs,’’ saii Lochead, who joined the 11th Airborne in tie Philippines. "They keep busy and work for yoi and stay out of your way. You hear about atroe ities but you don’t seem to meet the kind tf people who commit them. All you meet is these mouldy-looking characters in the street Some- body ought to be punished, but who the hell are you going to pick out?” One platoon in the 11th Airborne is unani- mously peeved at their lieutenant because M shook hands with a Japanese officer in charge o> an Army post near Fujisawa. “He didn’t just use one hand,” one BAR man said. “He used th® both.” “And something ought to be done about th Jap schools,” said another man. kids doing close-order drill dqring the rei^ periods — hut! hut! hut! hut! They’re jaetter than we are.” The train takes a bad 10 hours from Sei^ J? I Tokyo. Today the last three cars catrieo American officers, ranging from coloneb to rant officers, junior grade, and four EM. were going home. Somebody passqd out do of liquor, one to every five people. Sitting across the aisle from the EM tain, who got a little high and started to d in a loud voice the relative merits of me anese and Filipino women. A lieuten^ uo came over and said something to him an quieted down. . 'j, A Negro warrant officer walked down the and announced, “Club car forward." Som laughed. . o-. The major pretended to be hawking pers and chewing gum. Everybody As the train pulled into the station, the Ain cans threw sugar and candy from their X"'?. to the kids on the platform. A couple of 6^ >« 1 I 1 -p Pi and tnm> 1 lain, uoogie-aigmzea / niiT;p://www.naT:nii:rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie Occupation Notes Some GIs in Japan find ' ' ►ut their heads together and eieeled like dru?. put their heads together and giggled like drug- store cowgirls back home. “A Jap, a pretty intelligent fellow 1 was talk- ing to, told me that we are very attractive to toem,” one of the officers said. The way he said it you couldn't tell whether he meant attractive because of physique or attractive because of be- ing officers. The 1303d Engineer Regiment in Tokyo marks iU vehicles with a battle-sterred ribbon. The outfit went into France a few weeks after the Normandy invasion and moved across Europe with the Third Army, building bridges. “I don’t know what they sent us here for," said S/Sgt. Robert McGurrin of New York. "We were in France putting up prefabs. The next thing we knew we were shipping out of Mar- seilles for Manila by way of the Panama Canal. Then they sent us to Tokyo from Manila to build headquarters for MacArthur. They thought then there wouldn’t be any suitable buildings left standing in Tokyo. Before we got on the ship they found plenty of good buildings here, but they sent us anyway to build a complete pre- fabricated hospital. Now they find there’s no need for the hospital either.” The men in the 1303d live in rooms under a huge stadium in Tokyo originally planned for the 1940 Olympic games. The 1303d staged a gala track meet in the stadium the first week they were there. They’ve also fixed up an indoor swim- ming pool. The only men in the outfit doing any work are the truck drivers and loading men who are still bringing parts of the unwanted hospital ashore. The outfit is way under strength because of loss of high-point men, and the drivers are working in 12-hour shifts. "The Heinies we met in Europe were clean and civilized — it was like being in the States,” said McGurrin. “The girls were buxom and well dressed, and you could get along with the lan- guage. The people here in Japan are hard to get to know. Japanese whisky and beer, when we can get hold of it, is better than calvados and that other stuff we drank in France and Germany, but these people, my God! You look at them and find it hard to think they were capable of all this stuff you read about, and yet you know they did it. It was the same way with the Germans. "We get a kick out of these Jap kids bowing and saluting. Kids are the same the world over. You can’t get sore at any of them.” Some of the men in an outfit which is behiij,d in its pay have sold cigarettes on the black mar- ket. The cigarettes bring the equivalent of $2, and a stiff court martial if you’re caught. During the first two weeks of the occupation you could see little groups of Japs gathered around GIs at any street corner trying to buy cigarettes. As in all outfits in Japan, high-point men in the 1303d are, however, watching their step closely. “This would be one hell of a time to screw up,” said one man, who’s expecting to be home for Christ- mas. “You know,” he said, ‘‘they’re all glad to see the Americans. And I’ve seen the French, the Germans and the Filipinos, ‘and now the Japs. Wherever we show up it means the war’s over for them. Sometimes I think half the people we see are laughing at us. ‘Hello, suckers,’ they seem to say. You begin to wonder what it’s all about. You keep moving and you liberate one country after another and still you don’t- get liberated yourself.” • ••*•• H The noise started about 5:30 in the morning. Some of the Japanese in the neighborhood were already up. They came outdoors in kimonos s P®srcd nervously over toward the barracks-. of K American soldiers on the roof thiill of others were hanging out tord- and fourth-story windows, yelline. “Ston!" The men on the roof were firteg'^^g^'^and wavmg to tee men who were getting into the below. You could shouting a half nule away. 1^ good, said the men in tee windows “See shouted. “Hoist one for me!” ’Then tee truc^ pulled away, carrying tee men to the docks and the boat for home. T-5 John J. Moriarty of Buffalo, N. Y., is an in- ■ formation clerk stationed in the lobby of Tokyo’s Dai Iti Building, a big insurance office, virtually undamaged by incendiary raids, which now serves as MacArthur’s GHQ. On Moriarty’s desk there are maps, telephone directories and long lists of who’s who among the American brass in Japan. He has to handle sightseers who want to know whether MacArthur is in or out of the building, and he directs to their outfits officers and GIs who’ve been lost in the shuffle. One of his jobs is to see to h that tee elevator is alwavs ready and waiting when the Supreme Com mander walks in tee door =>“P«™e Com- with the Japs who are »n with souvenirs and foodstuffe for the general or his wife. 1 P?,®''®’’ classes to look on us as liberatore, says Moriarty. “They’re usuaU^t^ ones who come m with information about war CTuninals or complaints about grafting Jap cons. M ®“®y “P people. Most of the Japs who come in here are too damn polite for my money. 1 think we should take some of thew strict wartime rules about how to act off their backs. They shouldn’t be told by their own officials what they can and can’t do.” The Japs that really annoy Moriarty are the ones who tell him in perfect English that they can t speak English. Generally speaking, he thinks, the occupation is going all right. “We came into Japan knowing what we were going to do,” he says, “and we are doing it.” Moriarty and the other G1 white-collar work- fup^F OrFgJiClSjdfjlQIUlrld over, these young Japs have o lot iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigiuizea / ni:i:p://www.nai:nii;rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie YOU ARE NOW ENTERING X TOKYO 1 IfT CAVALRY DIVISION 74. -j 1... ‘ nnt w ttkoitt " ' ■ Tne \i\ Covoiry Division pw* up o 019 oillooord ot oru end of □ bridge to Tokyo, celebrating their orrivo! ers in Tokyo are billeted in the huge Finance Ministry building. For recreation they can go to movies which are shown there every night, or they can take a subway ride to houses. If he’s working the day shift, Moriarty gets through at four and goes down to the GI beer hall on the Ginza which is open for two hours each day. If he’s lucky enough to get hold of a beer ticket in advance he doesn’t have to sweat out the long line. The beer hall is always a rat race. There is a mammoth billboard at one end of the bridge which separates Tokyo from Yokohama. It says that you are entering Tokyo through cour- tesy of the 1st Cavalry Division. There’s an MP check point under the sign where GIs driving Army vehicles have to stop and produce trip tickets. When the drivers stop, they notice an- other sign chalked in crude letters on a board propped up beside the bridge. "This is the America! Division.” it says on the small board. “Don’t blame us for the sign.” A jeep barreled up to the check point, and the MP walked over to it. He told the driver he couldn’t cross the bridge, not with that woman. The driver turned to the Japanese girl in the bright kimono who was sitting beside him. “Well, baby,” the GI said, “looks like I’m gonna have to take you back to that peisha house.” The girl smiled a little, the way people do when they don’t understand what’s being said. The MP checked the jeep’s number. He said that the Americal Division was mising 2€ jeeps. “That’s tough stuff, ain’t it?” said the driver, and he drove off. *••*•*• In an unbombed town about 30 miles outside Tokyo there’s a squad of seven American sol- diers. They stay in town to prevent trouble be- tween townspeople and sightseeing Americans from nearby replacement depots. They live in back of the police station and work more or less with 'the town cops. The seven GIs don't have anything to do with the local population officially. The job has turned into a pretty good deal, much better than what they had in the Solomons and in the Philippines “We cook our own rations," said S/Sgt. Leland Powless of Oneida, Wis., NCO in charge. “If we had better eats we’d really have a racket."- They even had a dance the other night. Ope of the boys was playing the harmonica and the locah* poUce chigf happened to drop in with his daugh- ter and some of her friends. The GIs laugh when they talk about teaching the girls to fox trot and jitterbug. a • *1. After they got used to the seven Americans, the townspeople began bowing to them on the street. Now they bring them gifts and do their laundry The townspeople regard the sightseeing soldiers from the replacement depot with the tolerance that natives show toward tourists, but they Uke a proprietary interest in the seven men who live in the town. One of the men thinks this may be be- cause they carry guns and the tourists don t. The strwU are patrolled by two men at a time working two-hour shifts, watching for looting or other American misbehavior and kicking all GIs out of town at 2000 hours. So far, there has been no serious trouble. Powless declared: 'This is a pleasant surprise, because the Japs expected worse treatment and we expected a worse reception.” Pfc. Richard Shively of Wabash, Ind., one of the men in the squad who doesn’t have m'any points, is reconciled to sticking around for a while. “The guys with the big mouths — ^the tough guys —are the only ones who still talk about shooting the Japs on sight,” he said. “When I walk down the street I’d just as soon make friends with the people instead of trying to do it any other way. You can’t get by any other way for long.” Shively wishes there were movies in town and more beer, but he feels the experience of being stationed like this in a little outpost is a good onb. “It grows you up as far as taking responsibility and all that.” he said. rifles m a storeroom. 1 put two men on the room and went out and got the When we came back, the Jap took us ^ another room and showed us 27 more. Hs to they were there all the time. But he when he saw we meant business. Thai wit ni wheel factory. Almost every factory Fve beat has been a small arsenal.** Todd estimates that 25 percent of thefictm he has seen are capable of production, but W deeply impressed by the extent of tb« bi® damage in Tokyo. “I figure these Jap industrialists would liki b start the war again, because they can make nm money on rifles than they can on automobiles.' he says. “I siqipose these replacements of om who never saw combat will make friends widi them. But the guys who saw combat will new trust them. I know I won’t.” IT was dusk and the two men were sitting on a ridge looking out over a grove of pine trees. Stretched out below the pine trees were some rice paddies, and off in the distance was a rolling range of mountains getting blue as the sky darkened. It was cold. One of the men said this was the kind of weather they’d be having at this time of year in Pennsylvania. The other man looked at the slim, straight pine trees. They reminded him of New Hampshire. “You blur your eyes a little and you’re home,” he said. A train whistle hooted down in the valley. The sound rose and fell lonesomely. “Gahdam, that gets me,” said one man. “Yeah, it’s been a long time since I heard one of them,” said the other. “I guess train whistles sound the same the world over.” PVT. John Liberatore of Cleveland, Ohio, is in a way symbolic of all the occupation troops. He stands around waiting for something to happen. He is a guard at the entrance to the American Embassy in Tokyo. The duty is strictly garrison. He works two hours on and four off for 24 hours, and then gets 24 hours off. When the spotter in the upstairs window sees that big Cadillac coining up the street he hollers, “Five stars conMBg!" and Liberatore snaps to. The rest Of the time he stands at parade resi and watches the Japs who trudge past the Em- bassy gate. ***•••* 1 came here I didn’t trust them any W W further than you could throw this build- ing, said S/Sgt. Jack Todd of Crawfordsville Ind. The building where Todd's outfit lives used to be the Imperial Guards' barracks, and it’s solid Todd has been leading small patrols around the outskirts of Tokyo, investigating certain buildings and areas. ® “I stiU wouldn’t trust them, if they get back on their own. As long as we are here they'll probably sUy in line. The other day a Jap showed me 21 IT was after midnight and the Ughti had jia gone out. Somebody moved in his bunk nS- iessly. “Damn fleas,” he said. There was a short pause and then someoM il* said: “Feed ’em, they’re hungry.” It dark. The voices sounded detached and mP®’ sonal and seemed to echo in the large “Remember the last time we heard that. “Yeah, Purple Heart Hill. That BARnm"®' ning up shooting. , “ ‘Feed ’em, they’re hungry!’ he was yeW There was a pause. “What was that kid’s name?” “1 don’t know. Some foreign-soundmg Was he French?” ^ “Was that the kid who was killed Day?” It was a new voice. The talk of 1®*® ^ on their backs has a heavy, deliberate Q®*®! The words come slowly. , ^ “No, I don’t think he was killed at ak 11 the kid with the red hair with the wave m and he was always careful when he com “I remember.” ,, ^ “Remember the guys going up that pushed from behind and yeUing? Boy, a bitch.” wit A match flared and there was the cigarette. “That was the place where_ the jme an bitches!’ ” ‘Come and get us. you souvenir-hunting :hes!’ ” No, that was in the potato patch the fore.” “What the hell was the name of thar*^^ the BAR? He was in E Company. “Feed ’env they’re hungry,” said some deep, mocking voice. riHgk They kept on talking in meditato* trying to remember the name of the led the way up the hiU, discussing who had been killed, recalling t**® W fallen for six weeks and the mail come just before they went up. the war. that little war they had just bitterly on the hillside almost a year getting rusty. wAtm Tfc« Ai«T poblimm iAmnd wmAIi ^ SraacA 00<4, MaraMfloa S Erfamloa Kvium, Wo, Oimnmmmi loc aaa . *• *• «. I*«. « .f N.W hTy' "■ r- I , n I *• i f”' P’'** ”•* PMC 4 Tigind^ 'ERSITyOFMICHIG,AN m like Tm saying to Hymie~th< says Brynhilde Fleigenheimfl back of the old Crematorium ENGLISH. "I love Yanks," soys Pam- ela Atkins, "particularly the bloke \ mar- ried. But I think ril have my Limey accent back again before I get to the States. POLYNESIAN. Much much good." says Polly Gumbo "I go with fella him in gas- wagon pool Him drive a hard bargain. If all Yank fellas like him, I chew gum all day. ' AMERICAN. Mrs. Joe Roppaporf says. "Da bum! JAPANESE. "It took while get used to change from Bonzoi charge to sneak attack," says Rose Horito. "Velly good." USO CAMP SHOWS. Glamorous Dawn Schmaltz says, "Average Gl? What's that?" Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN FICER CLUBi .V, h 1 «t»t yv B 1 • • i 1 ^ ^ j ^ ^ A ■ Fldfinery, 1 d iMtion- rfand. 1 1 iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigiuizea / ni;i:p://www.naT:nii;rusT:.org/access_useffpa-googie Omar H. Bradley PEOPLE ON THE HOME RONT By S9t. MERLE MILLER YANK Staff Writer WASfflNGTOK, D. C.— There are some generals who look the part — Generals MacArthur and Patton, for example. Any Hollywood director would consider them well cast A Hollywood casting office, however, would probably shake its head over Omar N. Bradley; the new Veterans Administrator looks more like a. small- town Sunday School teacher than a gen- eral. ’ . G^eral Bradley usually wears steel-rimmed spectacles with thick lenses, and he speaks softly 50 softly that, in casual conversation, you fre- quently have to strain to hear what he is saying. His speech is not marked by colorful bombast. He uses words like “reckon” and “yonder” and “maybe,” and the last comes out “mebbe.” This mildness of manner frequently fools peo- ple. When Bradley was appointed to his new job by President Truman, one columnist wrote; “Brad- ley is unquestionably a man of high integrity and earnestness, but it is doubtful if he has quite the drive to carry through what is probably the second or third most important public job in the correspondents said much the same thing when Bradley became commander of the II Corps in North Africa. But it wasn’t long before they revised their opinion. As Ernie Pyle, one of his earliest and most enthusiastic admirers, wrote; “^nite his mildness, the general is not what would call easy-going. Nobody ever rum him He is as resolved as a rock, and people who ^rk wi^^ don’t get the traditional Army bawhng-out from him, but they get the gate. MWe « The general was bom in Missouri, not far from President Truman’s home town of Inde- jiendence, and, like the President, he plays a good game of poker — for reasonably small stakes, his friends say. He and Gen. Eisenhower were both members of the class of 1915 at West Pojpt Brad- ley was only a second-string football pldyer, but in baseball he' set a still-unbroken record with the longest throw ever made at the Point. Like Eisenhower, Bradley trained troops'in the States during the first World War. He sayi rue- fully, ‘T spent the next 25 years apologizing for not getting overseas.” In January 1941, Bradley, who now wears four stars, was a lieutenant colonel; the following February he became the first brigadier of his class when Gen. Marshall put him at the head of what was then called the “Benning School 4ot Boys” in Georgia. Bradley, as guest of honor, was almoii ■ bound to drink, bottoms up. Bradley is L ■l drinking man, but he held his own six vodkas, neither he nor his aides count of the number he downed. ‘ When Bradley took over his new and still k ger job with the Veterans Administiaiio.| August, the organization was under fire ia a J bgr of newspapers and in Congress. Th | which will eventually handle the probhJ, 20,000,000 veterans of this and earlier allegedly stymied by red Upe. Its hospit* ’ said to be understaffed, overcrowded and L ally inferior to Army hospitals; its branch! too few and too scattered. i Asked, soon after his appointment, «)i planned to do about the newspaper gressional charges, Bradley simply said; l{| not been here long enough to see eudb L conditions are, but I certainly will see thslL service given by the Veterans’ Adminisbatkafl improved. It will never be good enough.' * Within a month, changes began. The called for the establishment ol 13 brarriud^ in Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, Cincinnati, Denver, Minneapolis, New York City, FIM phia, St Louis, San Francisco, Seattle aodlk- ington. He ruled that the branches shooldlin complete control over aU insurance and dag claims, which formerly had had to be rhimj, through the top organization in WashingiaTi meet the shortage of doctors, he decided hki VA hospitals with medical schools all mk country. Tlte medical and vocational di^ formerly the VA’s poor relations, are tow equal rank with the other departments. Bradley doesn’t boast about what he is dq “Don’t get the idea,” he says, “that we thiikh plan will perform a miracle or get thiiip da right away. But we hope it will bring a dedot improvement in the work of the Vetenis H ministration.” In North Africa and Sicily and pari onktiiti in Europe, the general lived and worked h a Army truck remodeled so that it wgiaelj le sembled a tourist trailer. According to Ernielft he didn’t bring along a single dress unifomlln, of course, the general is in a dress uniionn aBk time; be has a permanent home in Waskii^| and his luxurious office baas an unprtssm,'|kit | blue carpet. But the general seems the same— still the a who, because he never worried about whHkt | his trexaps were in proper uniform so long as ti won battles, became known in Europe as k | “doughboy’s general.” HIS success or failus:e in his new assignmeotri affect every veteran, present and future, ft VA administers the GI Bill of Bights; it ow' sees GI insurance; it operates scores of * erans’ hospitals; it handles compensatioD tv k disabled and pensions for veteraiss' otphaosid widows. It is t&e biggest single agency it k Federal GovenunenL But the general declikt let himself be overwhelmed by the sue of Ihk tail he’s been put on. “Ruiming an Infantry company or an W group and running an organization like this* aren’t very different,” l^e says. “10115 is hi# of course, but here, as in an Army gtoop,* main thing is to find oiat what the problew* and then solve them.” . As for the veterans he’ll have so mu® ** with, the general thinks "their main proh** getting back home and back to work so they* assume their responsibility to the nati* civilians rather than soldiers.” . ^ . , ofin* SHORTLY after the battle of iCassei*ine Pass Eisenhower caUed Bradley, then CO of the B2d Division, to Tunisia to command the II Corps Almost immediately after he took over, Bradley moved the entire corps to northern Tunisia where his troops caught the enemy off guard and! m a series of bloody engagemenU of which that for Hill 609 is perhaps the most famous, routed the A/riIca Korps. After North Africa, Bradley moved on to Sicily. On the Continent, as CO of the 12th Army Group, Bradley commanded the First, Third and Ninth Armies and, toward the war’s end, the Fifteenth. He was commander of the 12th Army Groun until after VE-Day and was Marshal Gregory Zhukov’s guest at the reception the Russians gave near the Eloe River, where the Soviet and UH. troops had met. His aides found themselves worrying about the quantities of vodka which Gen. Bradley doesn't beliqve, as some apparently do, that the veterans are gool® national problem children. “Ex«pt ® * portant minority who suffered injuries war, the greatest percentage 'will be mu® off physically and ijientally than away,” he maintains. “And what’s . erans will be able to take better jobs-** them well.” ^ He favors, he says, somS kind of full ment program: “This country must find * ^ ^ avoid depressions. What specific legisi*^ necessary I do not, at this moment, Don’t get the idea that Bradley is * 1^1^ in uniform. “After soldiers are the Army,” he says, “they must help nation one of the great democratic co the world and help maintain the things we fought. „ “And that,” he concludes, smiling, easy.” Original from VERSITY OF MICHIGAN iDiic uomain, ^joogie-aigiuizea / ni:i:p://www.nai:nii;rusi;.org/access_useffpa-googie noiea mat universal conscription does not constitute unilateral action by America, but wUl be a force within the framework of the Uruted Nations orgcinization. Ob'iMwo — RED WOCKMAN Regular Army Will Do Is UNIVERSAI. CONSCRIPTION consistent tvith %«7A1I1.R PEACE* Goldbricks No Help I TAKE it that universal conscrip- tion mecins one year of military I training. I spent two years [“training” in Georgia. Since then I (have been through Africa, Sicily, [Elngland, France, Belgii6n, Holland i3nd Germany, aind I have learned (that what they taught you in the jStates wasn’t worth a dam here. I We got months of close-order ^ill and then forgot -about -it. We |got weeks of who is supposed to pass whose gun to whom at the jorder of “stack arms,” and in com- bat you don’t stack arms. I drove trucks in civilian life for years, "yet 1 listened for hours to someone telling me the proper position of your hands on the steering wheel, how to let the clutch in easy, etc. ' I was told that as a private I was not supposed 'to think, just do as ordered. Over here, a man 'that didn’t think wasn’t worth a damn. A peacetime army kills initiative and mainly 'teaches a man how to goldbrick. I shouldn’t like to have my son endure a life of monotony which he knew was accomplishing nothing, not to speak of the low moral standards he'd be living with. A man used to handling today’s weapons in the Army’s traditional way would be lost with the weapons of the future. What we need is to keep abreast of the mechanical and scientific aspects ■of waging war, and not to have a large number lof men that only know how to make a bed for i“Saturday inspection.” -Cwimmy —Cfi. JESSC JAMES I 'Gasoline in the Cellar There is no crazier doctrine than the idea that 'the way to keep peace is to prepare for war. There is much more sense in the words of the late Professor Sumner who advised us to “make 'up our minds soberly which we want, peace or 'war, and prepare for what we want, because what we prepare tor is what we shall get.” ’.To destroy the militaristic system in Europe ' and Asia, only to end up with the same kind of a deal ourselves, seems a pretty sorry return for 'the hell our boys went through. < Against whom are we to be armed to the teeth? » Certainly not “aggressors,” for after this one, we were told, there weren’t supposed to be any more aggressors. ‘ Gen. Patton said that you do not prepare for - fire by doing away with the fire department. But, > neither do you prepare for a fire by storing gaso- ' line in the cellar and dynamite in the attic. Why > can’t we and all our neighbors get that gasoline out of the cellar and that dynamite out of the attic, instead of talking about a bigger and better fire department? Why not build us a war -proof world, as we would a fire-proof house? Mgivm -S/Sgl. GIUOT W. STEVOISON Military Life Now that the atomic bomb has made large ^ standing armies obsolete, it seems to me that the eflfect of conscription can best be measured by ' the total eflfect that military training has on the . individual World peace must be built on a spirit ' of cooperation. Military life discourages coopera- tion, because the army usually bestows its awards on the basis of individual aggressiveness. Few of us could deny that the bully and the toady get ahead in the Army, as well as a minor- ity of conscientious workers. We might as well face the fact that the Army, as we know it, is about the last place we should put our youth for character building. Conscripted boys of 18 or 19 would only pick up the bad habits of Army life: the bucking, the goldbricking, the bootlicking and the selfishness. Unless we want to see our civilian society in- fected with some of the worst Army habits, we have either to avoid conscription or change the Army. Gwui -Cfi- L M. lOOMINGOAtE Conscription or Charter The nations that ask for continued military conscription must have lost their sense of human values. They want to maintain large armies “to insure peace.” Yet these same nations sent their appointed representatives to San Francisco a few months ago to devise a charter, planning an or- ganization to prevent war. If they had no faith in man’s ability to keep the peace, does the San Francisco charter have any meaning? Men and nations can live together. It takes sacrifice and compromise, but that is better than death. For the first time in history we can prove our right to be free as nations by our ability to conduct our affairs with one another. That is what prevents wars, not conscription. Chino — S/Sgl. E. F. MG6S Conscription Backs Up Peace Yes, universal conscription is consistent with world peace. We are committed to the use of force under the provisions of the United Nations Charter, and hardly anyone questions the need of adequate forces to meet our commitments. * Attacks on conscription seem to involve a list- ing of gripes against the Army, garnered and nurtured during the war. They predetermine that we should not have conscription before they de- cide whether the principle is correct. I hold that it is. It is the most democratic means of securing a military force. The alternative, branded as un- democratic by Gen. Marshall, is a large standing army. I think that universal conscription is not only consistent with maintaining world peace, but it is a guarantee to the other United Nations that we mean business when we talk of maintaining it. As to the danger that our force will in itself con- stitute a danger to world peace, it should be well to remember that arms act in the service of policy. In the final analysis, the American people No, it is not. World peace is now being founded : ■' , S \2 1. i. it ' ^ I t -T *»li> r. -A . » . i . . ^ . , r'*. ■ ■ C>. » -.*• -i:'"* / ■ Grand Circus Park, hub of downtown Detroit. Lone uniform shows this ii no Gl town, but GIs are well treated*-no carfare, free ball ^ames,. ci>f cH inovfes. iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigiuizea / niiT;p://www.naT:nii;rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie From top of 47*siocv the heart of thL-wkC or worseLiCi AC^kpLcf^pi iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigmzea / ni:i:p://www.naT:nii;rusi;.org/access_useffpa-googie YANK The Army Weekly • NOVEMBER 9, 1945 By Pfc. ROBERT 6. HOYT //^^EAR Jack: “I suppose you’ve heard that I’m no longer a cadet, and naturally you’ll wonder why I was eliminated. Well, it actually didn’t have anything to do with the way I fly. They can al- ways find something even if you fly circles arouitd them. "What really happened was, I got PO’d at the Major. I was a little high in the Cadet Club on open-post night, and he was in there and saw me and said something about my blouse being un- buttoned. There was one button loose. “ ‘Listen,’ I'said. ‘Why don’t you take that Boy- Scout stuff and |>ut it where it belongs?’ I reaUy told him. He said something about ‘impudence’ and I said, ‘Why don’t you go back to flying bal- loons, jerk — it’ll go with your stomach!’ “So he called the MPs. He wanted to court- martial me, but of course he knew I had too mu(^ oh him — everybody knows he’s drunk most of the time. “So they washed me. I’m just as glad. A man’s got to keep his self-respect. Well, ^ck, give ’em hell in the Infant^, and let’s hear from you. “Be seeing you, " — ^PmL.” j^EAR Sally: a drink together. It seems like his sister kind of fell for me, though I didn’t say two words to her, and the next day my instructor tells me she wants a date and how about it? Naturally 1 thought of you right away. I said no, I couldn’t, as I was practically engaged. “He was pretty insistent about it, but I wouldn't five in. Finally he got sore. The very next day got a check ride, and they washed me. It’s too bad in a way, because I did want to fly, but as I’ve said to you before,, honey, I don’t think the kind of love that can’t stand a test is worth much. “By the way, don’t say anything about this to the others — they might think I was silly. “All my love, “ — F’hil.” ^^ear Uncle Fred: // “The real reason I washed out, sweetest, had lots to do with you, just like everything else in my young life. “You see, darling, an awful lot of what happens in cadets depends on how your instructor likes you. My instructorliked me okay at first, I guess, but something happened. “The way it was, I met him in town one time, and his wife and sister were with him. We all had “Uncle Fred, I think I can tell you the real reason I washed out, but please don’t tell Dad and Mom, as they’d just worry about it. I was washed out for what they call ‘flying accident due to pilot error.’ I could have set them straight on that, but it wasn’t worth it to me. “The way it happened was this. I took my ship up the other day for practice acrobatics — solo, of course — and was about to come out of a spin when the controls caught. I got her down all right, but she was pretty well smashed up. I found out the mechanic was drunk during the pre-flight .check and had left a wrench in the fuselage. It had caught in the control cables. “I could have reported it that way, of course, but I happened to know the mechanic and what it would mean to him. He has a wife and three kids. If I reported him, he’d get a prison sentence for sure. “So I let it go. As I said, it wasn’t worth it to me. He has promised me he’ll never touch an- other drop, and that’s reward enough for me. “By the way, could you let me have a fiver? I had to bribe the crew chief not to report the mechanic, and am a little short. “Best Regards, “—Phil.” f^^EAR Bud: “Well, how’s my kid brother these days? I’m not so good. I know you’ll be disappointed to hear Pm not in cadets any more. Til let you in on the real story, provided it goes no further. It may mean a lot to this country if it is kept secret “You see, as it was explained to me, there was evidence of an enemy conspiracy against the Air Forces. They got hints of it here and there, but can’t get a definite lead. They need a man with certain special qualifications, and I’m it, they tell me. The idea is that I’ll travel to certain posts around the country, just like an ordinary GI, and do a little checking. Wish me luck, and be sure to keep your mouth shut. ‘Tm sorry in a way, for of course I won’t get my wings. But my instructor told me privately that actually there was nothing more he could teach me about flying. And there’ll be a few thrills in this new job. “By the way, could you send me five out of your allowance?.!’!! need some special equipment. “ — Phil.” JJ^%EAR Aunt Fllen: “Well, I’m not flying any more, and in a wky it’s all your doing. Not that I blame you. I’m glad I acted the way I did, and that I was able to live up to your example. “You see, I remembered what you said about the foul language I might meet in the Army and what I should do about it. My instructor was a very crude sort of man, though a pretty good flyer, and he was in the habit of cursing at you if you didn’t do just what he wanted. I stood it for a while, but then I thought of the effect this might have on his other students who probably haven’t had the advantage of teaching like yoiOT. “So finally I drew him aside and talked with him. I told him what you always said about filthy language, and how if he kept it up he’d just drag the young students under him down to his level. ‘”rhe next day a lieutenant gave me what they call a check ride. He also used profanity, and I told him the same. I was eliminated. “Could you please send me $5, as I gave all my money to a buddy to buy his mother a gift. And please don’t tell Mom and Dad about this as th^ might think I acted foolishly. I mean about the instructor. About the money too. “Love, “—Phil. PAOt 14 Original from VERSITYOFf.kHIGAN iDiic uomain, ^joogie-aigiuizea / ni:i:p://www.naT:niT:rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie On this beach White bones. Clean and smooth. Half buried near torn shoes And rusty buckle, A rib, Shattered skull. Three gnarled vertebrae In the sand. (All materiel salvaged except the cracked eyepiece of a gas mask.) On the obituary page Neat rows of words. Framing life and soul Like a diploma. Beginning with born. Ending with died. (And a photograph, with smile, forgetting how tears feel on the cheek.) On the company roster A name Crossed out. PX Contributions ^or this po9e should be oddressed to the Post Exchonge YANK. The Army Weekly. 205 Eost 42d Street Nevw York 17 N, Y The Hrst Time //The bastards!” he growled to himself. He I stood quietly at the head of the line of KPs, waiting for his assignment. His eyes burned and ached. “Get a guy up at 4 a.m.I” ‘They’d never do this in the Infantry,” he mut- tered. Suddenly he felt like breaking away, just walking out of the mess hall and back to the bar- racks to hit the sack. To hell with these jerks. They’d never do this in the Infantry, not to a tech sergeant. But this was the Air Corps, the lousy, stinking Air Corps, where your rank doesn’t mean a thing. Unless, he reflected, unless you make it mean something. Standing there, alone in the crowd of men waiting for KP assignments, he started thinking. He started wishing. Two years ago when they shoved him into the Infantry, he figured he got the rawest deal they could throw at him. He told the interviewing doctor he had a bum leg, but he got the Infantry anyhow. The bastards. But nobody put anything over on him for long. He rode the sick book through basic training, and whenever they put him on KP he rode the sick book through that. But now at last they had stuck him on it. And him a tech sergeant. ‘This is the first goddam time,” he told himself. ‘The first time in nearly three years.” He got out of the Infantry by hounding the Medics. They finally recommended him for limit- ed duty, or transfer to the Air Corps. When he got to the Air Corps base it was a snap. A guy who’d been in the Infantry was God around those damn swivel-chair commandos. He sat around and snowed the CO about the Infantry until the Old Man was almost ready to turn the squadron over to him. He made tech sergeant in 14 months. He wangled himself a job as chief clerk in the assignment section. He smiled when he thought about all the officers he'd shipped out. Guys .he didn’t like, or maybe he didn’t like the sound of their names, or their attitude when they came in to see him. And he thought about the dough he’d "Me. Trinicle, I don't understand why you can't ra> member to sew braid on your hotl" >-S0t. Gtovonni CotvoreM, Amorillo, Tex. PAOi 15 picked up on the side, by shipping guys to bases near their homes. If the CO hadn’t been shipped finally, he’d still have that job. A rotten break. “What a come-down,” he reflected. “On my way now to sweat out the Army of Occupation.” He never thought it would happen to him. The bastards. And now here he was with a bunch of buck-ass privates, pulling KP at an ORD, when he should be at a desk giving orders. “Hey, you!” somebody shouted. “Sergeant! Come with me.” It was the KP pusher, a pfc. “Where we going?” “Garbage detail It’s a snap.” In back of the mess hall a truck was parked, and two soldiers were dumping garbage cans onto it. “Just help those guys, sarge,” the pfc directed. The p^ took an apple from his pocket, rubbed it across his fatigue-jacket sledve, and bit into it deeply. He sat on an empty can. The tech ser- geant looked up from his work just in time to catch the pfc smiling. . H. J. KRISTAK "I don't soa how thesa 69-point man gat aboard in tha lint ploca. — ^fe. lloyd T. Cermony Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN bury, Vt., are mostly combat veterans and have been especially trained. The toughest top kick in a regular outfit would blanch at the sternness of a corporal on the DTC staff. .■•V The greatest single cause of confinement in the CTC is going AWOL, which has been the undoing of 22 percent of the inmates. Desertion has put 15 percent there; misbehavior before the enemy, murder, rape, larceny and other felonies, 7 per- cent and disobedience, 5 percent. Officers, of whom there are now three confined in the center, stay confined there pending review of their court-martial decision. They are segre- gated from the EM, live in pyramidal rather than pup tents, and do not perform work details, but they do not get the courtesy normally shown commissioned officers. Every enlisted prisoner commences his confine- ment as a Second-Class. Trainee. The word "pris- oner” is dropped, for the center is designed to give men additional training in military dis- cipline. Military discipline, according to Army Regula- tions 600-10, involves ‘‘that mental attitude and state of training which render obedience and proper conduct instinctive under all conditions It is generally indicated in an individual or unit by smartness of appearance and action; by cleanliness and neatness of dress, equipment, or quarters; by respect for seniors, and by the prompt and cheerful execution by subordinates of both the letter and the spirit of the legal orders of their lawful superiors.” A trainee must meet the stiffest disciplinary requirements before he is eligible for release. Proeress toward that end is rewarded by ad- vancement to First-Class Trainee. On ‘he other hand a negligent man can be demoted to Third- Class’ Trainee and must start up again. Once a j'jj*5j_dass Trainee, a man with outstanding good conduct may be appointed as acting non-com or as a member of the Honor Company. A man usually must stay in the Honor Company for eight weeks before he can be considered for release. When the man is eventually assigned to an outside Army unit, his new CO will watch his conduct, initiative and execution of duties. After six months, the released trainee can re- quest a review of his case, with remission of the balance of the sentence, including the dis- honorable discharge, possible as final reward. How long this up-the-ladder process requires depends on the individual. Take the case of a Negro ex-corporal. Convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to hard labor for life, he was sent to the DTC. Only nine days after he en- tered the center, he made First-Class Trainee. He has been appointed acting sergeant and hopes to get into the Honor Company soon. On the other hand, goofing off can place a man in the Segregation Group — from which prospects for release are dim. Ineorrigibles and men waiting to be put to death (the DTC sends the doomed men elsewhere for execution of the sentence), along with men who have attempted prison breaks, form the rest of this group. Inci- dentally, every man who has ever escaped from MTOUSA DTC has been apprehended. The latest attempted escape involved 10 men, seven of whom were shot in flight, the other three being caught within 20 minutes. WHEN a man arrives at the center, he is sent directly to the stockade, a well-patrolled, well-fenced area. There his uniform and per- sonal belongings are stored. He gets two pairs of fatigues, two pairs of shoes, blankets, toilet arti- cles and training equipment. A thorough physical examination and an in- terview with a psychiatrist come next. Each man’s background, civilian and military, is noted by the Personnel Evaluation Department. Those physi- cally or mentally unfit for Combat Infantry train- ing may be classified for limited assignment or light duty. Men with serious disabihty are pla^ in a special company to await shipcaeat States for hospitalization. There is no pnority the trip, so it is a long wait. . At the Provost Marshal’s Office, the trails conduct, efficiency and initiative are graded and entered on a record card. This recor determine his advancement. . Full-duty men go to one of the Second- Trainee companies, under the jurisdicUM o officers and several cadre non-coms, dusty, unshaded enclosure, the new trainM is signed to bunk with another trainee who come from Boston or Boise, be a Quaker or Catholic, Negro or Chinese. In any regarded as his fellow-trainee’s equal. Right off the bat, he gets his orders. He W out his equipment exactly as prescribed and KW it so. With his bunk-mate he sets up very W housekeeping under shelter halves on a sligJ raised wooden platform. He shaves and sho^ daily, gets a haircut once a week. He his own clothes. In short, he wash» darns, scrapes and polishes to keep himsell his equipment spotless — and he finds it necesw to do this whenever he has a minute to himse^ He may write home no more than His incoming and outgoing mail is censored, marily for enclosures. His only reading matter either religious or military, which comics and pin-ups. He gets only one pack « cigarettes a week — to be smoked at designawl times, few and far between. He never s®*|**®^ officer (having lost his status as a soldier in standing), but rather freezes at attention unm told to carry on. At his first inspection, he realizes what supe> GI standards are maintained. The mess gear mua be shined bright as the silver at a general's quet. Uniforms must be perfectly creased-p^ sleeping on them when they are stUl damp aH« washing. Eagle-eyed trainees, in their capacity w Original from VERSITY OF MICHIGAN fmiiiif imio c[ii[ii j ■ PISA, Italv — The Disciplinary ’Training Cen- ter here is a wonderful place— for a GI to stay out of. Life for the 3,600 prisoners at the center is planned to be tougher than combat, and when the Army tries to make things rugged it does a good job. Nevertheless, most of the former soldiers liv- ing on the dusty, one-half-mile-square tract, three miles north of Pisa, are glad to be there. It means they have a last chance to clean up their records and return to honorable status in the Army and then to civilian life. All the pris- oners have been court-martialed, dishonorably discharged and sentenced to from five years to life imprisonment. Now they have an opportunity to work out their full sentences by enduring one year of training 14 hours a day, one year of ter- rible discipline, unbroken regimentation, mono- tony and constant chewing. Every Saturday, about 150 men make it and "graduate” as full- fledged privates in the Army once more. Organized at Casablanca in 1943, the MTOUSA center moved to Pisa last Christmas Eve, when the front lines were only 12 miles away. The cadre of 74 officers and 514 £M, under the com- mand of Lt. Col. John L. Steele of St. Johns- The toughest training detail in the Army is dished out to court- martialed GIs at the Disciplinary Training Center near Pisa. H«r« It th« front door of tho GI roform school, o ono^ioll-BHOwsquoro tract north of Pit« By Sgt. NORBERT HOFMAN YANK Staff Correspondent iDiic uomain, ^joogie-aigiuizea / m:i:p://www.nai:nii:rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN YANK Th0 Anay Weekly • NOVEMBCR 9, 1945 acting non-coms, follow equally eagle-eyed cadre down the line, snooping for minute boners — a spot of dust on a helmet liner, signs of toothpaste inside the cap of the tube, a protruding blanket edge, a hanging thread. As an Infantry rifleman, the trainee is required to train from 12 to 14 hours a day, regardless of whether he has already been in c<^bat or been trained in another type of unit. He gets plenty of close-order drill, interior guard and marches un- der full field equipment He gets instruction on weapons ranging from carbine to 81mm. mortar. Firing stpps with a dry run (except for men of the Honor Company, who fire live rounds). As a further precaution, firing pins are removed from all rifles. At the Mines and Booby-Trap School, duplicat- ing the set-up at the Infantry School of Ft. Ben- ning, Ga., the trained learns how to lay mine fields, ptobe for live mines and fashion booby traps. His training is rough, his work is hard and he lives uncomfortably. And all the time he is watched, hounded and graded. The trainee may apply for a conference with the chaplain and by going through channels can talk to visiting outsiders on official business. He is kept informed of current world news through an Information and Education program. He may attend religious Sunday services in the seatless lecture hall (referred to by trainees as “sitting on the rocks”) unless he prefers the alternative of field training. The company selected as the best at the weekly review and the company keep- ing the neatest area are allowed to see one movie that week. Every guy is out strictly for himself. Each man adopts more or less of a “to hell with the next fellow" attitude, for in his daily life, the quickest thinkers, hardest workers, most ingen- ious men are getting the breaks. Men compete in sharpening up their personal appearance. Some bleach their leggings and shoe- laces. They stay up late sewing, by the light of the stockade beacons, the seams of their fatigues with contrasting white thread. Some trainees re- move pocket flaps from faded salvaged clothing, sewing them on their own fatigues to create a twsBtone effect. All such innovations, within reason, are regarded as evidences of initiative and an intense desire for advancement. A gig is to a trainee what a whip is to a horse. It hurts, and at the same time makes him go faster. Too many gigs ruin a trainee's record and postpone his release from the center. Gigs are handed out by the cadre, often at the suggestion of the acting-non-com trainees, who regard such detection as a feather in their cap. Besides being a black mark on a man's record, a gig can also deprive him of one of his three meals. Aceording to officers at the center, the planned diet gives a man enough nourishment to get along on two meals a day. The trainees don't give a damn about the diet; they get hungry at least three times a day — even though they- do have to eat standing up. Only the commanding officer of the DTC, or the prison officer w'ith delegated authority, can impose these severest punishments: removal of privileges, principally the privilege of being “free” in the evening to clean clothes and brighten up equipment, instead of going out for The reward for meeting the iron discipline is eventual release. Trainees have to stand a rigid inspection daily, fin the picture at left their names are censored out.) If they can take it, they leave the center and return to the Army. solitary confinement cells, in the center are death cells and at right a segregation area. “moonlight cadence”; and solitary confinement. Every trainee has a healthy respect for DTC's solitary row. Here, in dark 6x10 cells, prisoners are confined for 14-day periods with only a blan- ket to protect them from the concrete floor. They get only 18 ounces of bread a day but all the wa- ter they want. Guards make regular inspections of the solitary cells, and if a prisoner shows signs of collapse he is taken to the Center Hospital. But, after being nursed back to health, the pris- oner must return to the solitary row to complete his sentence. PROMOTION from Special to First-Class Trainee brings with it such privileges as getting an additional pack of cigarettes a week, being per- mitted to take more advanced and interesting training courses — perhaps in the Clerk or Motor School. Most important of all, a First-Class Trainee can be assigned to special duty in one of the operational phases of the center. A trainee nor- mally likes special duty, for that excuses him from the long, rugged drilling and field exercises; and his time will pass more quickly, since he works at a job for which he is qualified. Men are on special assignment everywhere on the post — in the mess halls, in ordnance, in the dispensary. They work in the stables where the horses for security guard are kept. They are in the maintenance shop as carpenters, masons, elec- tricians or plumbers. They're dental technicians, waiters.-typists. They sort mail, they stand guard. Standing guard at rigid attention or parade rest outside Center Headquarters for eight hours daily — two hours on, two off — is a privilege here. A former staff sergeant with the 34th Division is in charge of the barber shop, a good break for him, for in civilian life back in Ohio he used to be a barber. He and nine trainee as- sistants give GI trims to an aver- age of 400 heads a day. But no shaves, shampoos, or massages. Trusties are appointed by writ- ten order of the CO. They wear special arm bands; they're per- mitted to leave the stockade on duty without the usual guard. Minor inefficiency or misconduct will cancel this promptly, as it will every other special appointment. “Upside-down" corporals or ser- geants are what trainees call trainee non-coms, because the chevrons are worn upside down. To be an acting non-com is to reach an enviable spot. Acting NCOs live in a separate area, one man per tent where possible, each tent boasting wooden floor and frame. The men do not have to lay out equipment for daily in- spection, but each man must keep his tent neatly arranged and policed at all times and must su- pervise the displays of other trainees under his command. Every upside-down NCO is expected to be a constant example to the other trainees and to control and instruct the men within his own group. Acting non-coms are the only trainees on the post who are permitted to salute officei-s. In the Honor Company, a trainee, as one just- released acting sergeant put it, finds that “they give you enough rope to hang yourself." “You get near vino and stuff,” the acting ser- geant said. "If you're a man, you can stick it out ... You know, in some ways the Honor Company is easier than a lot of regular outfits.” But It can be tougher, if a guy can't stand prosperity. At the inspection on Saturday mornings those promoted to the Honor Company, besides men to be released from the center, are called to front and center. The weekly ceremony symobolizes the continuous rehabilitating process going on within the DTC. Up to now, 10,954 men have been confined in the center and 7,469 released. Of all general prisoners released, only 5 percent have had to be returned to the center, having failed to make the grade in the Army. Life in the DTC is so grueling that men who are released feel that to be a private in good standing in the Army is a wonderful break. While the war was still on, many graduates made good in combat, and now some ex-DTC men wear Purple Hearts and campaign stars and a few the Silver Star. THE ARMY WEEKLY our own nurses and Wacs often refuse to speak to us when passing on the street and, dammit that hurtsf b this a prelude to the reception awaiting us in the States? All we ask is a chance. If a guy gets nasty or off the beam, swat him with a slab or something, and heave the carcass in the nearest sewer. Most of us would be glad to help. But how about treating the rest of us like average young Ameri- can men, which we will be before long? building to school building. Otherwise we are located up behind waUs. The na- tives stand and gape and cannot under- stand and neither can anyone else, Of course, this applies only to enlisted men. The officers are having nightly parties with entertainment provided by Korean dancing girb. Our food b worse than we ever had — canned rations. Now school b about to start and we are about to move into tents. Not one word of explanation, not one syllable of excuse has been given to the boys who on convenient occasions are called the flower of American man- hood. b it that we cannot be trusted on the streets? MTe are not permitted to spend Ameri- can money, nor are we given Korean money. The question thousands of Amer- ican soldiers in Korea ask is this: “We have risked our lives, suffered and starved to end this war. Now it is over. We have liberated the Koreans, but who in the heck will liberate the liberators?" Koin -Cpl. H. E. NOTEIEVITY* *Aho ugnad by IJ alhm. Tormented "Trooper Dear Yank: I am a Paratrooper, and have been since the summer of '42. You know pretty well what training we did, and how our airborne unib behaved in eombat. We are. by necessity, a rough and ready crew. As a result, our reputation is a pretty mean one. And therein lies my beef. The very nature of our job has at- tracted to our ranks several men who were, even at home as civilians, damned foote who thought that heavy drinking, insulting women, fighting, wrecking bars. etc„ were the signs of a "man." These same men are the ones who have given our whole group the reputation of being a pack of savages when on pass, and has led everyone who recognizes our uni- forms to.stay as far as possible from us. These men are definitely a minority. The overwhelming majority of us are no different from Gb in the regular In- fantry unib. Armored Corps or other combat groups. Here in France. W'e are being shunned by the people. We’re fairly close to home, though, so that we can stand. But even H *- A'** •» br tm»t Mly t» in IW ann«S Hrwtrat. StMitt, fnafwtn. •vlwnt npS ntw mnlnHal tnm VANK mn br **Wn*KcS If tWy an nnt mirictna by iM nr •illUry ryynhfian. ynyibra yrnyyr crtSH h yiyvn. rclMH Sam an nbycnwa nab yyecISr atnr Mrsnniaa bx been ynnM fir nib In br nwaXan. Ebtir* rnalnli Vnl. 4. lU. Zl. inpyribbM. l»«i. by CX. FmbHn S. fan- brr*. UAia EOlToaiAL OFFICE ZS5 EAST 4Z4 STREET. NEW YORK 17. «.y. Non-MilHury Schedule Dear Yakk: The problem of many hundreds of thousands of Gb lying around camps in the States waiting for diseharges is becoming increasingly important as thousaiub dock each day. But what is haiipening in thb former combat di- vbion? Every morning we have close- order drill, the same old thing we had in basic several years ago. This is fol- bwed the rest of the day by classes in mabria. firing of the bazooka, jun- gle fighting and other outdated subjeeb. We have training films on similar topics and they are run over and over again to pass the time. They are even run backwards. As each day passes, our boredom grows. Why ao we have to waste valu- able time when an extensive educa- tional and recreational program could be put into effect along lines to pre- pare us for entry into civilism life? We’re certainly not getting any younger in the Army. As I write this note in the Service Club. I see a young fellow reading a book on elemenUry electricity. Near him is a chap reading a book on re- frigeration. As it stands now. Armed Forces Institute courses must be studied on one’s own time. A plan should be adopted whereby an educational pro- gram could be conducted in the morn- ing. followed by a recreational program in the afternoon. As it is, the boys are continually fed up with the accent on military science and pomp. And what happens^ They get piffed off. tell off the old man, get into trouble, get drunk and, in general, make nuisances of themselves. None of us like the thought of an- other five or six months in the Army, training along strictly pre-atomic-bomb military lines. But if each of us could use that time to further ourselves edu- cationally and physically, our attitudes w'ould be quite changed. I believe all GIs will agree that a definite non-military schedule is needed during our "su'eating-it-out" period. Comp Chathm. Ark. — Sg». CIHUT ECNSTROM BNTOWAl STAFF . Wmmiw fthtar. S«. laa WiCartky. FA; Art Oirtilir. Sit. CImrtx Bnm4. AAF; Aa- Mini Wamn-I Elilar. Sil. li-mioa Nil. RrtOi. Sir. Carwt: Aaaiatail Art Diwlar. SiL Col SdraiH. DEWL: Pictwra. Sit. Lm IMII- lir. Arwil. : Fcalmea. Sit. Ray Daacaa. AAF; Ovrracat Elilaf. Sit. Al Hlaa. Enir ; U. S. Elilar. Sit. Hilary H. Lyaaa. CA : Nayy EEltar. Daaalrf Nulral SalXITc: Ataariala Elitara. ^1. laha Hay. lat. ; Sit. Wllliao MiRiaay. •a(. : Sil. Waa Rami. tc. WASHINGTON. Sit. H. R. Ollahaat. Eaw.: Sit. IdIb Haviralick, CA. lAPAN. Sit. Raktrt WaiHitlai. FA: Sit. Raaa Barirr. AAF: Sll. Grarm Baraa. Sil. Carx: Sll. Dala Kraairr. HP: Sit. Bill Lla- lau. laf.: Sil. jxk Ruia. OEML: Cal. Jaiaia Karxy. Sll. Carx: BaSrrI Srkwarta TZa. USNR: E»x Wylia SClIPR). USCGB. PHILIPPINES. Sit. Ixk FIrMa. DEML: Sit. Fraak Brck. AAF: SH. Rairr Caiai. CA: StI. Ixk Craaa. MrA : Sll. Maraia Fxil. Eair. : Sit. tor StataxIH. Ewr. : Sit. tiaxi WaltuR. Eair : Sit Rairr Wtraa. Sil. Carx: Sll. BiH Vaaai. III.: Cal. RalaA laarl. Eair.: CX- Daa HiaXL AAF. OEWl’"**' TaaiHxaa. ■ARIARAS. Sit. laiira Cakta. ArmA: Uaaam Patalak CPkaW. USRR: Varaaa H. Rak- arta Pkaktlc. USRR. RTUKYUS. Sit. Pxl Skaxra. AAF. FRANCE. Sit. Gran Wayara. AAFt: SlE Pat CaRry. AAF: Sll. Williaii Fraaar. AAF: CaL Havan Katraalar. CA; CX. Daail WM|. aaok. AAF ; Pat. OxW Rariar. Eair. BRITAIN. Sll. Earl Aalrraaa. AAF: Sit. Ediauad Aalrakua. Ini. : Sal. Fraak Brandt. Mad.: Sit. Fraxja Burkr. AAF; Sit. Iimaa • Daiaa. DENL: Sit. RaXIak SaXaad. AAF. ITALT. Sll. BaaaM Braiaikxat. AAF; SX. «^a Craax. Eair.: Sit. RarBart HafwaA DEWL: Sit. Oat Pallir. AAF: SiL DaM Skao. IX. ; CX. Ha Frnxai. Can. INOIA-aU RWA aad CHIBA. Sit. (aki BWa. lal.: Sit. lad Caak. DEBL. ALASRA. SiL Tax Skakaa. FA. AFRICA-WIODLE EAST-PERSIAR BULF. Sit. Rithard Pul. OEHL; S|t. Prtar Fantaa- nr. OEBL: CpI. Ray MiGovara. lal. ICELAND, ^t. Gardm Farral. AAF. tjul men with under 36 poinb are going overseas, I have 35 — two years’ service as a pre-Pearl Harbor father. Is General Marshall wrong? Or. is Yakk wrong? Or, doesn't General Marshall read communiques from the WD? What is the score? Am I getting out this winter or shall I tell my wife to find another provider? Comp In, Vo. -CpI. HAMY AYIK Dear Yakk: At the beginning of the war. Senators and Congressmen all over the country made a tremendous issue about the fate of pre-Pearl Harbor fathers. ’The decision was reached that in order to protect the American family life, this category would not be drafted until absolutely necessary. When the need became great enough, these men entered the service and did a good job at their assignments. Now the war is over. These men seem to be forgotten. What price now, the pro- tection of the American family life? Have their responsibilities ended? It is essentially unfair and un-Ameri- can to keep these men away from their families now that the war is over. It doesn’t serve our country’s best interests to have the families of elose to a million men suffer needlessly. A fair and reasonable solution to this problem would be to furlough any man upon request, until such time as the War Department can get around to discharg- ing him. The men thus would be given the opportunity of regaining, in part, their old position in civilian life. Worrxiifaurg, AAo. -Pfi. I. M. SEIFER Education for Supermen Dear Yakk: We troops now occupying Germany have been waiting for a long time to see if anyone would w'rite to Yank and ex- press his opinion on the way our Govern- ment is re-educating the German popula- tion. Just when are we going to start teaching the civilians, who are totally ignorant as to how. why and where this war began and who exactly won it? We Americans who fought in the front lines as combat men can’t sec why the Germans still think their fight was just, and that they are supreme and destined to rule the world. As we discuss the sub- ject with them, they say yes, you Ameri- cans won the war. but they blame us for killing, stealing and plundering. When we tell them what the Germans did to all of Europe, they only laugh and deny While all of Europe starves. Germany is still the best-fed country over here and is polluted with clothing, food and ma- terials looted from others. They tell us that Poland has no cattle or livestock, that the young babies have no milk to drink. Why can’t we take some of the cattle from the huge German farms, load them on American trucks and haul them to Poland, instead of worrying about the ’’poor German civilians"? Wake up, America! Let’s get busy and start educating these ignorant, arrogant supermen, and get them off of their high horses. Glrxony JOHN ANDERSON* *Alik siBBig by 41 Xbxi. Liberty for the Liberators Dear Yank: This is the 13th day of American oc- cupation of Korea, and all our move- ments so far have been from school caxaaaliai OBier. Cal. Fraaklia S. Fan- EanXKx DBxr. Lt. CX Ixk W. WaaX. Bxlaxi marnaaar. HaJ. GxaM I. Rxk. BVERSEAS BUREAU BFFtCERS. Fraxa. LI. CX. Ckxlx L. Hafl. Bag Hxry R. Rak- «tl an CaX. lack SXaantala. axialaati: Rkiltpaian. CaX. Baa BiMraa; laxa. Hal. Lain Gillaaxa: Caatnl Saath Pxlkt. Haj. Haaay E. Jrkxai: Hxlaaaa. Call. Kaakllaa Aaxi: Rirakyx. CaX. Barta P. Billkaai; Haly. CaX- Haiarl Caniall: Bxsa-lalla. Call. HHaB A. Baaranka: Alatka. CaX. Graly E. Ctov Jr.; Paaaau. CaX- CkxHi H. E. Slak. XakrM: Alrlaa-BWIb Exl-Panlx GaH. Bai Fraak Blalalax. This Week's Cover ^ HE famou» sfocks of the Ford plant at River Rouge exchonge the olive drab of war for the bright silver of peoce. The new coot of point symbolizes Detroit's shift from the tools of death to the comforts of civilion life. See poges 8 through J3 for Sgl. Reg Kenny's picture story of the Reconversion City. PHOTO CREDITS. Cover — Sit. Ret Kenny. 2 * 3 — Sit. Gcoric Burns. 4— Ae«' . 6 — Acme. 7~8li. Ceres. • threueh 13— Sft. Kenny. IS A *2“Ar«y Pklerial Service. Sfr— Univcrsnl Pic- lores. 23— PA. you come by this ) 1 7th point!" — Sgt. Tom Flanmory iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigiuizea / ni:i:p://www.naT:nii:rusi;.org/access_useffpa-goog!e Fnedom of Speea Dear Yamc: We have just finished reading Drew lyaraon’s recent column concerning let ters written to Congressmen and Sena tors by soldiers, in whicb be states that several Congressmen, inelialing Bep. An drew J. May of Kentudcy. send the mail received from Gls to the War Depart- ment. *^vhere 400 Wacs, who thought they enlisted to help win the war. now have to he^ ann Congressmen's demons ' hy answering soldiers* mail.’' "War Department brass hats are de- lighted with the arrangement," says Pearson. "Not only do they make friends in Congress, but they get a chance to see who the troublemakers are in each camp. All a GI Joe pours out to his Congress- man about his superior officers is spelled out in bla^ and white for War Depart- ment perusal and can be sent back to the simenor oSoer." Pearson also states that the Wacs have been admonished to remember, "You're getting votes for the Senators and Con- gressmen whose letters you're answer- ing," and one officer. Col. William M. Cliarfcaon, threatened to take asmy all rank from any Wac who dijected to do- ing die work because of its political na- ture. Things like this make us stop and think whether America, whose growth was fostered by people who believed in free- dom,, ami whose constitution lists ‘free- dom of speech" as an important factor in our Government, is really on the right tra^ or is on the road to becoming what the Nazis called a "decadent democracy.” Ufarmm tsinwll, M». *Alas aissWl by 5 Back to Business Dear Yank: The discharge system is unfair to businessmen. When the war began we left our businesses and hoped they would Survive without the supervision of their owners. Now that the war is over, here we are sitting around waiting for the point system and going throu^ complicated channels, when instead we should be on the way back to see that the busi- ness survives. We are also losing out in the soliciting of postwar business. Our competitors who evaded the draft are getting the cream of the postwar business. In my case, 1 am sole owner and pro- prietor of a photo-finishing plant. I have given three years and seven moii^ of my life to tte Army, which should be long enough, especially now that the war is over. This point system wasn't made up in favor of specialists or serv- ice troops, but almost entirely for com- bat troops. I think there should be a special pro- vision made to discharge men who are sole owners and proprietors of a busi- ness firm. This would help to insure the prosperity of our country in the future. OUiwwo -T-3 H.WYN H. COA15 Discipline and Respect Dear Yank: In a recent “Hail Call" there ap- peared a letter from Capt. Homer H. Hammond in which the anti-democratic customs and procedures of the Army were defended At the outset, Capt. Hammond would have us believe that all line officers earn their commissions by hard work. Most line officers had to undergo only three months of OCS. Whatever they did during those three months is certainly no justification for placing them upon a pedestal. If Capt Hammond meant to imply that everyone has had an equal op- portunity to receive a commission, he is certainly wrong. Chance had a great deal to do with it Of great impor- tance were such factors as the time pne entered the Army, the need for officers at the time one applied for OCS, quotas allotted to the camp or field where the applicant was stationed and the par- ticular OCS for whicb the applicant ap- plied. The use of better uniforms by officers is justified on the ground that the offi- cer must be a pace-setter. Where I come from, however, a pace-setter is one who can do a better job under the same conditions as the group for whom the pace is being set. Given the same degree of care, an officer's uniform will always look better than a GTs. Just what sort of an ezample does the offi- cer set? On the matter of social intercourse among officers and Gls, Capt. Hammond advances the lame explanation that Gls don't want social fraternization. If that is the fact, ^*51. forbid it? Is it to protect tbe GTs privacy? Why an tbe double-talk? We all know that this anti-fraternization order is based upon the notipn that social intercourse wiii lead to loss of reqiect among Gls for tte officers. If this premise is correct, it only proves that officers don’t de*rve tbe respect demanded for them, and that reject must be obtained by building a screen of formality and mystery around them to maintain resprct Why not carry the order to its logical con- clusion and segregate all ranks? . The objection to the order is clear to my thinking person. Without any basis in fact, the' segregation by ranks leads to a labeling ^ tte groups as inferior and superior. Capt Hammond reaches the pinnacle of stupidity in his diaeuasioa of dis- cipline. Has it ever been shown that obeying orders in cloee-order drill will lead to obeying other types of orders? Men will obey orders arhen they trust and respect the officer giving them and when mey perceive the necessity for the order. The way to build discipline is to improve tbe quali^ of officers and build a cooperative spirit betareen tbe officer and his men. False, indeed, is the Army premise that discqiline can be instilled by building a slave-master relation^ip, with the slave required to show out- ward reflect (whether or not he feels that resp^) and bow down (salute) before the master. In a column entitled "Imprisonment by Japs Taught Yanks Hatred," Ibj. Cien. King wrote. "It is hard to realize even now that I do not have to jump when a bell rings, do not have to leap to attention when there is y knock at the d(»r." If such practices/ were part of the regime that taught General King hatred, why assume that forcing a GI to stand at attention before officers and to salute them will instill a different - attitude in the GI? SafiiM AAf, Kan. -Pvt. f . L GOIDON A Taxpayer Protests Dear Yank: So M/Sgt. William J. Boyle wants to be return^ to the reserves after 20 years of Regular Army duty! He wants to be turned out to stud (no doubt he means pasture) so some youngster can have his rating His spirit of patriotism and self-sa(nifice atmve and beyond the call of duty an uses my in- terest. I am not an old-timer, but I would like to tell him what I think of his idea. Tbe average civilian starts work at about 20 years of age. If he belongs to the fortunate few, be can retire, at the age of 60, after 40 years of work. Does the Master Sergeant thipk that his services to his country are so out- standing that he should retire upon com- pleting half the work perform^ by the average civilian? Does he think that we civilians will sweat out taxes for over 40 years so he ran be turned out to pasture in 20 years? 1 am perfectly willing for any indi- vidual to earn more than I expect to. I do object to members of the Regular Army attempting to nvert their po- sitions into a legalized racket at the ex- pense of the civilian. Imdia -T-5 J. C EONAl Transportation Home Dear Yank: Here's something we feel the WD should know, and it might be of inter- est to Congress too. for it’s just another reason why the discharging of troops is moving at a snail's pace. The Troop Carrier Squadron sta- tioned here at this Alaska base sends one of its planes every week to the U.S. base in Clanada, near the Candian- UJS. border, which serves as the recep- tion center for returnees from this theater. From this said base there is adequate transportation by rail and air to move troops to separation centers to any part of the U. S. Just this week- the Troop Carrier Squadron flew its baseball team to this Canadian base to play ball with the GI team there. They took 20 men to play a ball game 1,400 miles away while hvm- dreds of men, from Attu to Anohorage, were sweating out air transportation to the same base. To make it worse, toey took along for a pleasure ride a wo- man employed by the Government at this base. Not only did she occupy space on the plane that could have been filled by any one of the many Gls waiting for tran^mrtation, but she occupied a qpace that ix>uld have been filled by a private in our outfit who had b^n granted an emergency furlough because his wife was critically ill and who had , C lOOO I L' no means of immediate transportation. If (his use of Army tranqiortation tor pleasure is going on in other thea- ters as it is here, then something tells us we'll still be sweating out trans- portati(m to tbe States in IMS. Regular Natry Dear Yank: I am speaking for myself and a larg.: group ot men who enlisted in the Regu- lar Navy in IMO for a hitch of six years. This was the minimum at that time, and was after President R(x>sevelt declared the nation was in a state of emergency. Most of us have been overseas and in action for a total of more than four years. We have been told that the 18- month rotation plan has been cancelled and a 24-month plan substituted. This means that most of us will be overseas another year. We have sufficient points. 55 to 60, under the present system, but cannot use them, we are not asking for dis- charge but only for duty in the U.SA. and a chance to see our ld living conditions. What we want to know is, who the hell won this war? N. C. -TU lOYS OF figS. 420 Dog Robbers Dear Yank: Before I want my you^ lads forced into, the Army I would like to see the Army clean its own house. The Army can save manpower by doing away with orderlies for ofl^jers and separate KPs for officers' mess. 1 estimate the man- power saving at ffiO.000 men. Am I close? With this type of Army I would even vote for compulsory military training — but not before the Army changes. Britain -S/Sgt. H. E. PAUOT Voice from Occupationkmd Dear Yank: I have just read the article in which General Eisenhower states that len^h of the lindividuars] term of occupation depends upon the Germans. Why? In the United States there are millions of men between the ages of 18 and 45 (occupation is not strenuous) who have never been in the Army. Why is not our term of occupation dependent upon the length of time it takes to get some of them over here and us home? I don’t get it framm —He. WAM0I Y. ftANOS Fidd Commission Dear Yank: As a second looey, I have, believe it or not, a legitimate bitch to offer — and I hope every GI in the Army gets a chance to see it. You see. I have been commissioned only since March of this year and was wounded in the right arm two weeks later. I went into Normandy as a pfe on D-plus-1 (June 7th) and fought with the 2d Division all the way to the other side of the Rhine, giving me a total of five combat stars. But what happens when I try to wear them, to- gether with my Bronze Star, Purple Heart and Combat Infantry Badge? Just this. There is an immediate and heated reaction among the EM patients, some of which I cannot help but over- hear, in which I am branded as a cheat and a liar, a "shavetail who fought the war at the nearest Army store selling combat decorations," and other very uncxnnplimentary remarks. Now I ask you, is this fair to me? Naturally. 1 can sec the soldier's viewpoint. It is difficult for him to real- ize thfit a second lieutenant could con- reivably have earned five combat stars in the Infantry, particularly when, gen- erally, a second tooey beimmes a first after 30. days cm the field. If I were a first, or even a private, my decora- tions would occasion little attention but, as I said, I was hit about two weeks after my Add commission. I seems to me the Army would do a good thing if it ssere to authorize a special emblem of sane sort for the field-oommissioned officers to wear so that any ctoubts svfaich another may have regarding that officer's status would be immediately alleviated just by looking. It's prdty tough, after fluting nine-and-a-half months, to be taken for a faker. Tatealoom, Ala. -A SB DfVIStON 24 lOOEY FiaU Joshats O^. Field jackets have been authorize for wear out- side the limits of Stateside posts, camps and stations. Previously, men who wore the field jacket away from (3unps were ruled out-pf-uniform. The change, the WD said, resulted from the return of large numbers of men from theaters where the field jacket is authorized for general wear. Fsawor Jabs. Selective Service Headquarters announced that vet- erans returning to their prewar jote are not required to meet hi^er standards than were in effect at the time they entered the service. Selec- tive Service ruled: "If the position has been so changed in job content that it is beyond the veteran's skill, he is entitled to a job requiring skill comparable to that required by the position which he held at the time he left and equal in seniority, status and pay to that which he vacated.’’ Carmaa SdanHsts in U. S. German scientists and technical experts are being brought to the U. S. on a vol- untary and temporary basis, to con- tinue, under War Department super- vision, any important research they may have been doing. The scientists are being picked from fields in which German progress was significant and in which these experts ptoyed a dom- inant role. The WD stresses that they are bein^ “carefully selected’’ and that their research work will be linked to “national security.” Famioin. Disabled veterans will receive increased pensions up to a maximum of $300 a month under a law recently signed by the President. The law providis, for example, for an increase of $35 per month for veterans who lost one foot or one hand or who are blind in one eye. Full details will be found in Public Law 182 — 79th Congress. OCS. Candidates for From this point on, how- ever, Army football was . f strictly big league. The Cadets’ first undefeated ' team — in 1914 — met and stopped nine opponents, -^0 including Holy Cross, Col- gate, Villanova, Notre Dame and Navy.^ It was coached by Charlie Daley and included in its lineup , General Eisenhower and . General Bradley. . ^ . .J The Army-Notre Dame rivalry, which has be- B. come a favorite of nearly everyone, began in 1913 when Jess karper led his undefeated but unknown Irish into Mitchie Stadium to give Army a 35-to-13 * plastering and unveil a new football weapon — the forward pass. The pass, as thrown by Gus Dorais, J Notre Dame quarterback and caught by Knute Ken- neth Rockne, Notre Dame left end, revolutionized the game overnight and made Notre Dame’s Fighting Irish the most popular football team in the land. In 1916, Army had another unbeaten team, walloping nine opponents, including Villanova (69 to 7), Trinity (53 to 0), Notre Dame (30 to 10) and Navy (15 to 7). The 1918 team, captained by the great Elmer Oliphant, played only one game, against Mitchel Field, and won it, 20 to 0, and the 1922 team, considered by many to be Army’s greatest, played ten tough games, win- ning eight, losing none and tying Yale (7-'7) and Notre Dame (0-0). In 1924, an Army team led by Ed Garbisch, one of the best centers who ever bent over a ball, had an enviable unbeaten record as it came into the Notre Dame game. Notre Dame was also un- defeated, and gassed up by its famous Four Horsemen. WHAT followed was the most thrilling game of the entire Irish-Army series. Notre Dame won it, 13 to 7, driving Grantland Rice into the following lyrical outburst: “Outlined against a gray-blue October sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore, they are known as Famine, Pestilence, Destruction and Death. These are only aliases. Their real names are Stuhldreher, Miller, Crowley and Lay- den.” *rheir dream of an unbeaten season having been spoiled completely by the Four Horsemen of Notre Dame, the Army went on at something less than its pre-Irish pace to beat Navy and tie Yale (undefeated that year) and Columbia. In 1926, 1930 and 1933 Notre Dame again ruined unblemished records for the Mule. But last year the Army gained a measure of vengeance by hanging a 59-to-O defeat on South Bend, the worst shellacking in the series. Army’s worst team — without a doubt — was the 1940 outfit, which beat Williams by one point, tied Harvard, and lost on consecutive Saturdays to Cornell, Lafayette, Notre Dame, Brown, Penn, Princeton and Navy. This sorry season led to a complete revamping of the athletic setup at West Point. Earl Blaik was brought in from Dartmouth as head coach. Andy Gustafson came in to coach the backs, Stu Holcomb took over the ends, and Herman Hick- man, the fattest (300 lbs.) coach in history, took charge of the line. They soon began to get results. In 1941, the jarred-up Mule beat Yale, tied un- beaten Notre Dame and lost to Harvard, Penn and Navy. In ’42 and ’43 Army beat everyone but Navy and Notre Dame, and last year’s Army team went all out and knocked everyone as flat as a first sergeant’s head. This team was led by Glenn Davis and Doc Blanchard, football’s biggest left-hook and right- cross combination of the century, and a couple of fellows who are good enough to sit with Elmer Oliphant, Red Cagle, Monk Meyer and Light- Horse Harry Wilson, up in the front row among the Army’s great backs of all time. Davis scored 20 touchdowns last year, an all- time record for Army, and Doc Blanchard, who isn’t quite as elfish as Davis, punted 60 yards at a clip, kicked off into the end zone, threw and caught passes, blocked better than any other back in the business and ran like a kudu. He and Davis led Army to nine straight wins, including an 83-0 romp over Villanova, a 59-0 win over Notre Dame, a 62-7 win over Penn and a 23-7 verdict over Navy. The Mule lived up to the pre-season dope, which had predicted a steam-roller in- vincibility. Davis and Blanchard are on this year’s Army team, too, and so is DeWitt Coulter, the big land mine in the line. But missing from the fold are a variety of other stars such as Doug Kenna, the T-formation quarterback. Dale Hall and Max Minor, the blistering broken-field runners, Tom Lombardo, captain of the ’44 team, and Bob St. Onge, All-American center. These fellows were useful when you wanted a head pushed in. To replace them. Army has Bob Chabot, a half- back who saw little service last year; Dick Wal- terhouse, the extra-point specialist; Shorty Mc- Williams, a speed boy from Mississippi State, and Arnold Tucker, T-formation passer, who has moved in for Kenna at quarterback. Right now, the backfield looks as good as last year’s. But the Navy game will give you more of a line on that. To end this report with a glance at the future, we predict: It looks good. iDiic uomain, uoogie-aigiuizea / nTii:p://www.nai:nii:rusi:.org/access_useffpa-googie 'RECREATION' "PEBC-A-BOO" c ill «h«r '' V ^ Mirth un«** . cauahl L« »*OoU fee”-*:;':!! 2sr.»r >y. »• ’ J'^ A ^ * d ”■ = t iki^ b byGoogl "CARD SHARP" "ClOSE-TO-THE-CHBr Original from UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN